Another plane. You weren't used to flying so often. It had really only been twice in the last month, but you were also quite normal, and nowhere near growing used to the worldwide-superstar-lifestyle.

So, when someone tried to causally snap a photo of you going through customs, you fished your phone out of your pocket to call Shawn but stopped yourself when you remembered the secrecy of everything: you were surprising him on tour.

Praying the prepubescent girl wouldn't post the unflattering picture of you re-looping your belt, you took a deep breath and were on your way.

_________________________

Shawn's eyes were glued out the window as the 747 touched down in Oslo, the dings of everyone's iPhones pulling him from his daze as their devices were switched out of Airplane Mode.

His heart sped up as he entered his messaging app and immediately clicked on his chat with you, curious to read the random texts he was so used to getting from you whenever he was flying.

But nothing came.

Shawn felt uneasy. A little sick, even. He knew you loved him, but he wasn't sure it could possibly amount to anywhere near how much he loved you—and it was so often that he got in his head about these things. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but no words came to mind.

_________________________

With the help of Shawn's security and your oversized hoodie, you were able to slip through the crowd of excited Shawn Mendes fans in the lobby. Nine floors and a winding hallway later, your outstretched hand shook with nerves as you retracted the key card from its slot and twisted the door knob.

The room was dark. Black, really. It was kind of a free-for-all as you slipped in silently, running your fingertips along the stuccoed wall in a poor attempt to regain your bearings.

A congested snore could be heard over the gentle hum of the humidifier and you winced, remembering that Shawn was suffering from a pretty severe cold.

Carry-on and sneakers long-abandoned, your socked feet padded carefully toward what you could just make out as the bed.

"Shawn?" you whispered, contemplating shaking him awake or leaving him be. Desperate to feel him, you didn't think much before peeling back the duvet and crawling between the crisp sheets.

A blanket of comfort felt as if it wrapped around every particle in your body when the scent of his skin filled your nostrils, and you were sure that even halfway across the globe, you were finally home.

"Shawn?" you carded your long nails through his thick curls, brushing his feverish cheek with your thumb.

"Mm?" he mumbled, nuzzling the side of his face into the cool pillow.

"Baby," you whispered, running your fingertips along his bare bicep, "Shawn, I need you to wake up."

You slung a leg over his lower half, cozying up to his heavy frame as best as you could until he finally began to stir awake.

"Hm-," he hummed groggily, "what?"

"Sha-awn," you grinned, smacking a wet kiss onto his chin. You'd aimed for his lips.

"What?" he spoke, this time more alert. You felt him shift, "Is, are you, baby?" he questioned alarmingly, pushing up on his elbows as you did the same to keep in contact with his burning skin.

"Mhm," you giggled, getting a hard shoulder to the face as he pivoted his body to flick the light switch.

Painfully blinded by the lamp for a few seconds, you squealed as Shawn pulled you down onto the mattress and held you in a death grip, face buried in your clavicle.

"Fucking missed you," he hummed against your skin, body laying limply on top of yours as you finally relaxed at the feeling of having him on you once again.

He breathed you in for a second, halting to lift his head from your neck and nuzzle your nose, followed by a shower of kisses cascading across your face. You giggled as he pecked at your eyelids, sloppily making his way down your cheek to find your lips again.

"H-how," he started, still overwhelmed. You could feel his heart racing as your palms rested on his chest, "how did you—get here?"

"I walked."

Shawn giggled, dipping his face to nudge your nose once again, "You flew, I realize that," he muttered matter-of-factly, pulling a laugh from your throat, "I just, I thought you were in midterms?"

"Last one was yesterday, I fibbed," you grinned, dragging your palms over the expanse of his shoulders and linking your fingers at the nape of his neck. His curls hung from his forehead, tickling your eyebrows.

"I can't fucking believe you're here," he breathed, shaking his head a bit as you failed to speak. Something about just being with him, seeing him again, wrapped up in the heavy blanket that was Shawn had you absolutely over the moon, any concern you may have carried disintegrating into the stale hotel room air.

The hum of the humidifier began to drive you nuts after an hour and a half of counting sheep to the sounds of Shawn's breaths, sleep failing to take over your senses. You carefully snaked an arm out from the covers, stretching to click the glowing button as Shawn shifted behind you, tightening his grip around your middle and pressing his lips to the back of your neck.

"Mmokay?" he hummed, slapping his lips together a bit after a second.

"Yeah," you breathed, "M'good."

"Good," he mumbled, "fucking love you."

"I love you more," you muttered in response, staring blankly into the hotel room darkness as your curly-haired giant slipped back into his slumber.

_________________________

The buzz of the crowd was almost louder than the band, completely rocking out as Shawn reached the first chorus of "In My Blood." You watched Shawn—sleeveless, to be precise—sing his heart out, headbanging to the beat as the drums vibrated your skin, tickling your nose and rattling your chest.

Somehow, Shawn was still able to pick you out from the small huddle of crew members standing to the side of the stage, because even with the massive hood resting atop your head, he managed to pause mid-sprint into the audience to smack a kiss on your lips. Or your chin, rather.

You covered your mouth with a giggle as you watched his sweaty frame greet the front row, a sea of wide grins filling the floor of the arena. It crossed your mind a lot, how many people you had to share him with. But for once--and just this once--it didn't seem so bad.

_________________________

"Shawn, that was fucking incredible!" you bounced on your toes, delighted as he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground to give you a spin.

"You liked it?" he asked with raised eyebrows, droplets of sweat trickling down his temples.

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to answer his question as he released you to bro-hug his band mates. Their faces radiated pure joy as Shawn gave a thumbs-up to a crew member you didn't recognize, a mutual reassurance that the show was a success.

"You wanna head back, I'll meet you?" Shawn mumbled softly in your ear, his bare arm snaking around your back once again.

"Not really," you giggled, continuing when he raised a brow, "I came here to see you. Can't I, uh, follow you around a little?"

"'Course, baby," Shawn huffed with a grin, thumb rubbing small circles on your rib.

You watched attentively as Shawn gave a warm "thank you" to every staff member he passed, leading you down a never-ending grey hall. You just about kept going when he turned on his heel and came to a halt, gently twisting the knob and pushing the wooden door open.

"This is my dressing room," he spoke, turning momentarily to reach backward for your hand, "normally we hang out in the green room after a show but they all know they can't have me tonight," he chuckled, peeling the damp sleeveless button-up from his torso.

"Oh?" you grinned, finally pushing your hood off your head to look up at him, "And what could possibly have you so busy, Mendes?"

"A date with my other girlfriend," he nodded with a straight face, quick to roll his eyes and break into a wide grin.

You giggled and gave his bicep a swat, stepping back to collapse on the leather sofa.

"M'serious babe," he called from the bathroom, "hot date!" he laughed loudly.

"Had lunch with your mother the other day," you hummed, scrolling through the few pictures you'd taken on your iPhone during his performance.

"You did?" Shawn asked, popping halfway out of the bathroom and forcing a blush onto your cheeks at the realization that he was stark naked.

"Yeah," you nodded, keeping eye contact, "she misses you. Says I'm the closest she's gonna get," you spoke, remembering the long hug Karen had given you after noting that you smelled like Shawn.

"Cute," said Shawn, leaning over the counter a bit to scratch a patch of dead skin off the side of his nose.

"Asked about the ring," you added, watching Shawn freeze up for a second.

"And?" he prompted.

"She asked if it was real," you started, "I said no. She said it was too bad."

Relief rushed through Shawn's body at your words, grateful that his mother so openly approved of his relationship. His relationship with the woman he planned on marrying.

"It is too bad!" he grinned, hearing a "pfft" escape your lips as he imagined you were probably shaking your head and smiling. You were.

_________________________

"Pay attention to me!" Shawn giggled, clearly dissatisfied by your interest in your Tumblr feed, taking it upon himself to stand over your relaxed frame and shake his dripping head around.

You squealed with a giggle, shielding your face with your forearms as he took the opportunity to pounce, pinning you against the cushions with his damp body.

"I," Shawn spoke, smacking a kiss onto your cheek, "want," again, smooching the other one, "kisses," he finished, nudging your nose with his own. You obliged happily, pulling his lips to yours by the back of his wet head.

Things heated up quickly, the both of you starved of each other's bodies. You waited for him to slip his tongue out of your mouth to speak, "how long are we allowed to be here?" you asked, regarding the small dressing room.

"Twenty more minutes, maybe," Shawn answered, attaching his lips to your neck and making you squirm.

"Should we," you asked, gripping his curls, "should we save this for the hotel, then?"

"Don't know if I can wait, babe," Shawn mumbled, fingers slipping underneath your hoodie to grip your side, "lobby's gonna be fucking full."

You cursed under your breath, remembering the herd of fans surrounding the hotel hours prior.

Shawn hung his head, eyes falling shut as he briefly felt guilty for putting you in a situation where you had to share him so generously. Your gaze raked over his face, the sheen of sweat now rinsed away, and your heart sped up a little.

He made it worth it.

"How do you want me?" you asked, causing him to snap his eyes open and meet your stare with narrowed eyes.

"You serious?"

"I asked," you bit your lip, "how," you paused, "do you want me?"

"Fuck," Shawn whispered, shifting his weight to his elbow to tuck your hair behind your ear, "turn around," his voice firmed up as he rose from the cushions, allowing you to turn over in place.

Suddenly unaware of the fluorescent lighting and screaming baseboard heaters, you wiggled out of your jeans and kicked them off, laying face-down on the leather couch.

Shawn's chest heaved with each deep breath as he stood above you, enjoying the swell of your ass squeezing out of the tight pants you were wearing. Palming himself over his towel, he couldn't resist reaching out and touching you.

You flinched as his fingers lightly grazed your skin, tracing the waistband of your g-string to where the fabric disappeared between your ass cheeks. You could feel your cheeks heating up at the sound of his towel falling to the ground, followed by a haste rustling of fabric on skin before he situated his knees on either side of your thighs, warming you up with his hands.

"Gorgeous, baby," he muttered, kneading your hamstrings, "haven't seen you like this in a while."

"How long do we have?" you asked, arching your back to make a point of your ass in front of him.

"Shit," he breathed, running his fingers upward, "not long."

"Better get to it, Mendes," you quipped, muffling a squeal as he brought his right hand down on your ass, hard.

If you weren't wet before, you were dripping now. It wasn't often that he had his way with you, but fuck, when he did, it was hot as hell.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered in your ear, leaning over your needy body. He pushed back on his knees, inching your sweater and t-shirt up your middle until you took the hint and tugged the fabric from your torso. Collapsing again, Shawn hung forward and kissed his way up your spine.

"Want, want you, Shawn," you breathed, his fiery kisses melting holes in your icy skin. It was relaxing, almost, having his lips love on you for a few seconds. He seemed to remember you were pressed for time.

"Want me?"

"Want you to take me," you breathed, pushing your ass back against his middle, "just fucking take it."

You could feel the head of his cock kissing your folds, testing the waters as he got a feel for your wetness and what he wanted from all of this. How he wanted you.

"Gotta be quiet for me," he cooed, soothing your reddened skin as he teased your sensitivity with his tip, eventually surrendering himself to you and pressing all the way in.

His palm halted, lifting from your ass to come down on the skin again, leaving you fighting moans and mewls as he filled you out perfectly.

"Jesus Christ," Shawn muttered under his breath, bracing himself with his hands on your lower back as he began ruthlessly rowing into you, giving you everything he had.

You reached back and placed your hand over his on your side, finally closing your eyes as he turned his wrist and interlaced your fingers.

"Fucking give it to me, Shawn," you groaned, keeping your ass as lifted as possible as he continued to pound your leaking pussy, fighting his strained vocal chords from screaming out your name.

"Fuck," he grunted, slowing down to pull almost all the way out of you, only to ram his length back into your entrance a few times. Your eyes rolled back with each thrust, focusing on the feeling of all of him as he snaked an arm under your stomach and pulled your body flush against his.

"Need to be," he coaxed as he fucked into you roughly, "need to be close to you."

Having a hard time forming a sentence, you let go of his hand to give his thigh a squeeze, an unspoken comfort you'd been showing him since you first started hooking up. Shawn's heart burst.

"Alright, fine," he smiled, nudging your ear and then giving its shell a kiss, "turn over, I need to see you."

He slipped out of you and sat back on his knees, watching you with a boyish grin as you flipped over and laid beneath him. Hooking each of your legs over his thighs, he looked from your flushed cheeks to your glistening heat and wondered how in the world he ever got so lucky.

"I love you," you grinned, making yourself comfortable as he aligned his tip with your core, burying himself deep within you once again.

His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned forward, pressing his cheek to your own before whispering back, "I fucking love you more."

You felt him reaching between your clammy bodies, locating your clit with his thumb to give it a knowing flick as he continued his rhythm between your slick walls, leaving you biting your hand in an attempt to keep quiet.

"Fuck, babe, I'm almost, shit," he huffed as his hips snapped forward, moaning loudly as your fingers tangled in his hair and gave his curls a gentle tug.

"Give it to me," you pleaded, walls clenching around him as he began to unravel above you, a mumbling mess of I love you's and compliments and incoherent sounds.

You followed suit and he littered your neck with kisses, ensuring that you felt him in every way until it was time to peel your sweaty bodies from the leather sofa and make a run for it.

_________________________

Your eyes snapped open as light from the hall spilled into the dark hotel room, Shawn tiptoeing in after taking a couple hundred selfies with people who didn't understand the concept of privacy. You stirred, wiggling your toes and wiping your now makeup-free eyes.

"Sorry, honey," Shawn spoke warmly but wearily, and you nodded, though he couldn't see you. There was nothing either of you could do or say—this was the life he lived. And it was the life you were in for. Falling in love with a worldwide popstar wasn't exactly a projected part of your path, but neither of you could help it. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

"You awake?" Shawn whispered, closer this time, and you giggled as his stubbly chin tickled the crook of your neck.

"Yes, idiot," you grinned as his lips sucked at your earlobe, "couldn't fall asleep without you up here. And it's only been like, twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes too long," he hummed, kissing your cheek and standing once again.

You eyed his silhouette as he stripped down to his briefs. And you knew.

You knew he'd be the one you'd be picking up at the airport for so many years to come.

He'd be the one writing songs for you and about you, nervous to play them but excited for you to hear them.

He'd be the one to ask you to move in officially, to scrap this whole "roommates" thing. Because he loves you. And he'd never loved anyone—until you.

He'd be the one to drop to one knee halfway across the world or maybe even in your own living room, pouring his heart out to the woman he loves because maybe, just maybe, you might marry him.

And you would. You knew.

He'd be the one you'd catch scrolling through floor plans on that ridiculous iPad, convincing you to move into a new house with him—a home—because it would be a running joke that you were just his roommate. As his wife.

He'd be the one to start crying when you finally tell him you're pregnant with his baby, and then immediately call his mom because if you were having a baby, it was just as important that Karen was having a grandbaby.

He'd coach your son's soccer team.

He'd cry when your daughter gets accepted to her top choice university.

He'd continue to be the biggest act in the world, but he'd still be there. He'd still always be yours.

He'd be the one you grow old with, because he was your person. You had the felt it in the coffee shop the day you met and you'd felt it confessing your love to him in his childhood bedroom and holy fuck, you felt it now as you laid naked in a shitty hotel-room bed on another continent, waiting for him to come warm your toes up.

He'd be the one.

"You okay?" he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts as he folded his pants over the chair. You hoped he was happy.

"Mhm," you gulped, suppressing your grin as he flicked the bathroom light on and pulled the door almost all the way shut, "need a nightlight?" you giggled.

"Just want to see you," he responded, peeling back the covers to finally join you, "talk to me. Did you enjoy the show?"

"Of course," you spoke, waiting for him to get settled on his back before you draped your frame over him, hooking your left thigh over his waist, "it was amazing, babe. What you do," you paused, "it's incredible. You're changing lives."

"So are you," Shawn hummed, placing a kiss to the top of your head. You raised your brow in the dim room, wondering if he noticed. He did, "You inspire me so much. To create," he spoke softly with closed eyes and a full heart, "I see you in everything. I don't think my energy would be the same without you, I really don't."

"Interesting," you hummed, running your fingers over the fuzz of his chest.

"Really, baby. I'm not kidding. It's Team Mendes."

"Team Mendes," you giggled, craning your neck to smack a kiss on his lips.

_________________________

You woke to a loud clang followed by a muffled "shit!" as Shawn tried to make the best of the room's tiny kitchenette, bacon sizzling in one pan as he tried to make eggs in another.

"Morning," you laughed, sitting up in bed as Shawn turned to you with a startled expression.

"'Bout time," he grinned, walking over to place a kiss on your forehead, "I'm having trouble with the eggs."

"Baby, you know I don't like eggs," you spoke, shaking your head, "actually, I think the smell of eggs would make me nauseous right now, so please, sit this one out. No eggs."

"Just bacon?"

"We don't have bread for toast?" you asked, finding the lost look in his eyes utterly adorable.

"You don't even know how hard it was just to get the bacon and eggs, babe," he laughed, patting your thigh over the duvet.

You chewed on the bacon at the room's unfortunate table and chairs, admiring Shawn's shirtlessness as he rambled on about how you had to leave soon for Sweden and how excited he was to really get moving on the European leg.

You eyed your luggage in the corner of the room, eager to get packing but wishing time would stand still so you could stay a little longer. Shawn didn't know you wouldn't be joining him.

"You okay?" he asked, reaching for your hand across the table. You took his.

"Yeah," you gulped, "m'fine. Great bacon."

"The best bacon," he chuckled, resuming his detailed story about how he almost tripped down the stairs a few days earlier.

_________________________

"Ready?" Shawn asked, taking your carry-on into his arms as he got ready to lock up the room.

"Shawn, can we," you paused, "can we just wait a sec?"

He put the stuff on the ground quickly, face laced with concern, "yeah, what's going on?"

"Just," you breathed, leaning back against the wall as he inspected your face, "it's uh, I'm not-"

"You're not what?" he interrupted.

"I'm not coming with you," you blurted out, "to Stockholm."

It looked as if all the colour had drained from his face in an instant, mind immediately going to his greatest fears and panicking. Before he could speak, you pulled him in for a hug. Just holding him was what you wanted, but you knew what you needed. You needed to tell him.

"I have to talk to you."

Shawn only squeezed you tighter, heart racing as his brain went absolutely nuts, assuming the worst.

"Shawn, I'm gonna need you to calm down. I need you to be calm for me," you spoke nervously.

"Just fucking say it," he said, "tell me."

"Don't worry," you hummed, reaching for his hands as he tried to calm himself down, "I love you. I'm not coming to Stockholm because I'm going home. To our home.

"I love you more than anything. I've never loved anyone more and I don't know that I ever will. Baby, calm down," you spoke, noticing that his eyes were getting glassy. He tilted his head, an impatient look crossing his features, "Shawn. I. Love. You. I just need you to really listen to me when I say this," you said, meeting his gaze as it softened.

"Please just tell me what's going on. You know how much I love you, right?" he started in a frantic attempt to veer your mind away from wherever he thought it was going, "you know I'd fucking do anything for you, right? Baby, tell me what's wrong. I can fix it. Please, just t-"

"I have an appointment that I can't miss. I only came out for this one show because I needed to see you. It's really," you paused, pulling his frame closer to yours, "it's really important."

Now you were crying, too.

"What kind of appointment? Are you okay?"

"It's a doctor's appointment," you whispered, "I'm fine, don't worry," you brushed his curls out of his face, admiring the red patches on his cheeks as he finally began to regain colour.

"I don't understand," Shawn replied, leaning in a little closer, "can't you just reschedule it? Baby, we're in Oslo."

"Shawn," you choked, wishing he would just get it so you didn't have to keep talking, "I can't come to Stockholm. I love you, but I can't."

"I don't know what you're trying to say, or if you've said it and I've missed it or if I did something wrong but baby, please, please just tell m-"

"Shawn," you interrupted, bracing yourself for the two words you were about to say.

"I'm pregnant."

Thank you so much for reading. This story is the best thing I've ever created and I'm so sorry to see it go. Roommates will always hold a special place in my heart and hopefully, it lives in yours, too. I hope you'll stick around to witness everything else I'm ready to create because this story is what I needed to really convince myself that this whole writing thing is something I can actually do. Shawn and this reader will forever live on with me. Thank you so much. I love you.